


Rochade

by syredronning



Series: Draws [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between McCoy and Kirk knowing what they want, Pike doesn't stand much chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rochade

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to [The Game Continues](http://syredronning.livejournal.com/1168508.html) with less kink and more character stuff. Also, this story wanted to get written in past tense *palms face*
> 
> Thanks for the wonderful beta goes to madelf. All remaining flaws are mine.

It was the morning after – after the day that turned around Pike's world – and he woke up too early because his inner alert thought it was Friday for a moment. He was already up when he remembered that it was Saturday and he didn't have to get out of bed at 4.30. In addition, there were two hot men in his usually empty queen-sized bed and he could just slip in next to them again and return to sleep.

Since he was awake anyway, he went to the kitchen for a glass of water and returned to the bedroom. He sat down on a free chair, one knee drawn up to his chest, and sipped the cool liquid while watching Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy curled up in his bed. After the completely unplanned threesome in his office the day before, they'd had dinner together, speaking about this and that. He had learned that they had a slightly open relationship and sometimes included a third or fourth person, but that he was the only one they'd both been after, together. It was a little disconcerting to hear some more allusions of their fantasies that surrounded him and Pike had stopped them before they could go into details – fantasies and reality were two different things and he didn't want to feel pressured into delivering something he wouldn't ever be able to.

Then they'd moved to Pike's apartment for more sex and he learned more about the men. For example, that Kirk loved to bottom and could get off just on that without any further manual stimulation on his dick, while for McCoy, something up his ass was like a major orgasm blocker.

Pike really liked being this blocker.

Kirk also really enjoyed some pain in the game and had a high tolerance for it, while for McCoy, it was a dark, edgy thing he gritted his jaws over - and wanted anyway, at times.

Pike liked that too. It meant that while caning Kirk had a sportive aspect, with McCoy it was a battle of wills, a potentially more dangerous game.

No matter how he looked at it, he thought with a slight frown, it had been the best night in ages and as such bore the nasty grain of future disappointments. He couldn't imagine that they'd be able to proceed in the way they had started out, easy-going and hot and kinky and _deep_ in the strangest moments. Kirk felt still more like a son to him and while he'd been able to maneuver around it by using McCoy as the middle man, soon Kirk would notice; if he hadn't already. He wasn't sure how they'd deal with it - he wasn't sure how _he_ would deal with it.

"Done thinking?" A voice rattled him out of his thoughts, and he blinked to find both men staring at him from the bed.

"Done thinking?" Kirk repeated. "Then come back, man." They shifted apart, the doctor and the captain, making room for him in the middle. Pike shrugged, put his glass away and slipped in between them. Kirk was right, no use in overthinking what might happen. He lay down and spooned Kirk, getting spooned by McCoy. Their bodies were sleepy-warm, soft-skinned, and molded against his as if it were the most natural position. He placed a hand on Kirk's hip, caressing down the lightly haired thigh.

"Go back to sleep," McCoy whispered in his ear, pulling the thin blanket over them before placing one hand around Pike's waist. "It's too goddamn early."

Pike closed his eyes and soon enough drifted back to sleep.

*

When he woke up again, the body in front of him was gone, his hand resting on an empty mattress. From outside, the inviting smell of coffee lingered in the air. On his shoulder, McCoy's fingers worked some magic on his tortured muscles. It'd been a while since Pike had indulged in that much bed sports.

He grunted into the pillow when McCoy hit a painful spot. "Keep doing that and I won't ever get up."

"It ain't my intention to let you leave." The hand moved away from his shoulder and stroked down his arm and chest. When McCoy shifted, Pike could feel the doctor's hard-on nestling against his crack. It brought up a lot of rare images in his mind, and made his dick go to attention even more than it had been already. He didn't press back, but he also didn't draw away, determined not to overthink this either.

McCoy took his time, caressing Pike's chest and groin for a few more minutes before lifting his forefinger and middle finger into Pike's face. "Suck them, make them wet," he muttered, and Pike took them in, bathing them in his spit. He wasn't sure that would be slick enough but he didn't care enough to suggest lube and break the moment. He lifted his upper leg and felt McCoy's body shifting away. Then the first finger poked against his ring of muscle, slowly going in. Pike arched against it.

"How long since anyone fucked you?" McCoy asked quietly.

It took Pike a moment to calculate the time gone by. "More than ten years."

"Fits."

The finger was joined by a second one, and they felt rough and uncomfortable. Pike leveled his breathing and tried to relax. Damn, it really had been a while.

"I'll take you gently," McCoy whispered.

This was the point when Pike's ego should rear its head, but it didn't; he'd always known, somehow, that it would eventually come to this. So, the only answer he found at last was a gruff "Not too gently."

"Not too gently," McCoy agreed. The two fingers were in to the hilt, the others closed to a fist and pressing against Pike's scrotum. Pike inhaled deeply as the fingers started fucking him, in and out. It was still a strange feeling - and not enough lube - but his body slowly adjusted to it, remembering the actions of the past.

"Who was it?" McCoy's voice was close to his ear.

"Who - what?" Pike asked slightly confused.

"The last guy who was allowed to fuck you." As if on second thought, McCoy added, "If it's a good memory."

"Maybe another time," Pike replied. It was a complex memory and he wanted to stay in this moment and not drift into some blurry recollection. He shifted his hips, pressed against the fingers. "Come on, doc, I know you can do better."

"Oh, I can." McCoy snorted. He laced one hand into Pike's hair and used the other hand, with the two fingers still buried inside of him, to direct him up. "Get on all fours, Admiral."

A strangled laugh escaped Pike as he rolled on his knees. "How long did you dream of saying that?"

"Far too long," McCoy said, kneeling behind his parted legs. There was the sound of the lube bottle being opened and closed, and the characteristic sound of lube being slapped on a dick. Then the fingers pulled out, and were wiped on a paper towel. Pike took it all in, his eyes closed but all his other senses overly sharp. He bowed his head down on his elbows that rested on the cushion, searching for stability for the impending action. McCoy's left hand took a hold on his hips, and he felt the mattress shifting as McCoy settled into position behind him.

"I'll fuck you, Admiral, until _I_ come. And maybe then I'll let you come too."

Holy damn, that went right down to Pike's groin and fried the last reservation he might ever have had about bottoming to McCoy. True to his words, the doc shoved his dick in without further preamble and fucked the lights out of him for a damn long time.

He could finally feel McCoy was close to coming and caught himself whimpering, _get your hands on my dick_, when suddenly a voice stopped all of it.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," Kirk said hushed, "but there's a woman in your kitchen and she's really disturbed about my presence, because she says you never take anyone home. I think she's worried that we've mugged you."

"Natasha. Shit." Pike took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look at Kirk. "Old friend of mine. Forgot she wanted to come over. Well - tell her to come back in half an hour. Or if you're up to it, tell her that you're Winona Kirk's son. That should keep her busy with you until we're done."

"Alright. I'll try to keep her from barging through the door to save you." Kirk's steps drew away, and Pike was just wondering if the scene was already killed, when McCoy leaned over him and muttered, "Not even an earthquake would make me stop right now, so better hold on for the next round. I'm not done with you yet."

Pike screwed his eyes shut, clamped his hands into the bedding and gave in to the ride.

*

Afterwards, they were splayed on the bed, sticky, sweaty and completely fucked out. Pike knew he had a damn silly grin on his face and he didn't care.

"Holy damn."

"Yeah." McCoy laughed, still a little breathlessly.

Pike ran his hand down McCoy's face. "Thanks, Leonard. Or should I call you Bones too?"

"What about 'doc'? Seems I heard that a few times over the last night." McCoy sat up.

"You've got a title fetish."

"Well, at least I don't get off on it like some others do - Admiral."

Pike chuckled and then, remembering the guest waiting outside, rolled off the bed with a yawn. "Damn, I've got to talk to Nat."

"Who is she?"

"Old friend of mine from way back, at the academy. She had a brother on the Kelvin, that's why she knew the Kirks."

McCoy looked at him. "I've got a feeling the story is much more complicated than that."

"It is, but that's something for later." Pike stretched his aching arms, then shook his legs. "Damn, you gave it to me good."

"That was my intention." McCoy drew close until they stood chest to chest. "Sir."

Pike roughly grabbed him and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. "I don't know if I like the way you juggle the titles around," he said afterwards.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to deal with that." McCoy smirked. "Shit, my clothes are outside."

"Here, take some of mine." Pike threw him a pair of slacks and a shirt. They sat a little tight on McCoy, which didn't help Pike to cool down. He'd rather spend the next hour in bed with the guys than face his inquiring friend, but she deserved an explanation. He took his bathrobe and tied it, then brushed through his hair, not that it helped in any way.

When they stepped out of the bedroom, Jim and Natasha were sitting at a prepared breakfast table, the usual simple coffee upgraded to a monumental session by all the things she had brought to her regular Saturday breakfast with Pike.

Natasha was talking agitatedly, but stopped when she eyed them, waving her long black hair back over her left shoulder. Between her weathered, tanned face and the naturally-colored cotton things she had a taste for, she looked a bit like an old Indian drawing. Pike liked to think he'd aged better than she had.

"Chris – you could've warned me," she said in a low voice as he loosely embraced her and placed a friendly kiss on her cheek.

"Hi, darling. Sorry for that - I completely forgot you were coming around today."

"You always told me you'd never bring anyone here. Did that change or -"

"No. Trust me, this wasn't really planned."

She eyed him a little too inquisitively, and he pulled away.

"I think we're going to leave you alone for a moment," Kirk said. "Taking a shower and all." He dragged McCoy away before Pike could say anything but it was admittedly a good idea. Unfortunately, it also gave Natasha the room to snarl at him.

"Jim Kirk! My god, Chris, he could be your son!"

"But he isn't," Pike retorted.

"You were the one telling me repeatedly over the last few years just how fatherly you felt when it came to him. And now you're fucking him? And his boyfriend?"

"His boyfriend is his husband of two years, and I bet Jim told you so." Pike poured himself a coffee. "Also, technically I didn't fuck Jim – yet."

She rolled her eyes. "Damn, Chris, here you are, the guy who always told me that fucking in the fleet led to disaster, and that you'd never let anyone come into this apartment – and hey, you've got that absolutely relaxed face that tells me that you've even dropped the 'not getting fucked' rule. What is it about those two that makes you throw all your magic rules out of the window?"

"I've known them since their first year at the academy, and was a catalyst in bringing them together. They wanted to include me, not the other way round."

"Oh, poor Chris. Of course you can't say no when Kirk's charming his way into your pants," she said mockingly.

"It's more the doc, and he doesn't even know how charm's spelled," Pike muttered into his coffee, but she ignored it over her tirade.

"And didn't you tell me how fucked-up Winona's boy was, especially in comparison to my kid?"

"Would you please lower your volume? And I'm sure I never said 'fucked-up'. Jim overcame his past. He's a brilliant guy and a great captain, and none of Winona's errors could damage that part of him."

"And the rest?" she asked. "Is he going to your club?"

"A lot of people go to my club," Pike retorted. "And they aren't any more damaged than the oh-so-normal population."

"You are."

"That's your opinion. I could cite a lot of other people who think that throwing away a career to bring up someone else's kid isn't a normal way of life either."

"Yeah. Alright." She took a deep breath and went up from the table. "Guess we're not going to agree today."

"Damn, Nat." He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "I'm sorry," he murmured and tightly hugged her, something he hadn't done in ages. Seemed he was a little mellow this morning "We all are what we are."

She snorted but closed her arms around him. "Manipulative bastard," she muttered and hugged him back.

"Not with you."

"Yeah. I know." She sighed. "Think I gotta go and let you get back to your guests." She pulled away. "He doesn't have much from Winona, does he? He's all Kirk charm."

"Yes. He's very much like George."

"I bet that hurt her every day. I'm almost glad Tom didn't look a lot like my brother."

"It's not an excuse for her ignoring Jim," Pike said coldly. He had some very definite opinions about Winona Kirk but he wasn't ever going to articulate them. "There are things a mother just doesn't do."

"You haven't lost a loved one yet, Chris. You don't know how it feels to wake up one morning with someone important to you suddenly gone, taken by space. And I'm not talking about parents and old relatives, I'm talking about people your age."

Pike held her burning gaze. "We lost seven ships at Vulcan. I knew every single one of the academy kids."

"You didn't love them. Not like you'd love a brother – or a husband." She took her bag. It had the same cottony-we-love-nature style as her clothes, and a part of Pike wondered how they'd even gotten along so well over the years. "I'm leaving. Give me a call if you want to meet next week. Oh – and please make sure I don't stumble over any other lovers. This was really too much information for my taste."

He sagged back against the wall as the door closed behind her. _Shit, shit, shit_.

He wondered how many his old friends would react similarly to the news that he had something going on with Jim Kirk (even if technically, he hadn't fucked him yet). He really liked to have a few friends he could talk to about everything, but Kirk might be a deal breaker to several of them.

Ah well.

He sat down on the table, drinking his lukewarm coffee. He rubbed his face, wondering if the shower was free by now but lacking the drive to check it out.

There was a knock at the door. "She's gone?" Kirk poked his head in, looking around.

"Yes. Come back in."

The men stepped in with a wave of shower lotion around them, looking neat and fresh. Kirk wore his own clothes, but McCoy was again wearing the clothes Pike had loaned him. And they still sat too tight, the pants' fabric tightly snuggled around the curve of his half-erect member. Pike forced himself to look away.

"You don't look too happy." McCoy walked behind him, massaging his shoulders.

"Spilled milk," Pike said coolly. Rather old spilled milk, he thought; three hundred dead crewmembers on the Kelvin, and thousand of lives changed forever. Nothing worse than old shit coming up again. He wondered if the current generation dealt with the losses better than they had.

"I'm going to make some fresh coffee," Kirk said.

"Was it because she was running into us, or -?" McCoy asked.

"I've never brought anyone into this apartment," Pike replied, not really an answer to the question but close enough. He shook off the massaging fingers, as it was suddenly all too close and intense for his taste.

"I'll take a shower. Help yourself to the breakfast." He left them without looking back.

When he returned, cleaned and dressed in jeans and a shirt, he half expected them to be gone, but they were still in his kitchen, talking in hushed voices. The men fell quiet when he opened the door. They eyed each other for a moment.

"You want us to leave?" Kirk asked at last.

It would be so easy to say 'yes'. They could end it here, after a great night, when they still felt mostly good about each other. No emotional fuck-ups, no shouting, no complicated discussions, no more people criticizing him for seducing the Kirk kid.

"If you really want us to leave, we'll go," McCoy agreed. His face was guarded, his eyes unreadable.

Pike stared at McCoy. Maybe they'd gotten all they wanted, he suddenly thought, just a good fuck. Maybe McCoy's only goal had been getting his dick up his ass, enjoying the big prize of having Pike moan under him. He brushed his hands over his lips, hating the bad taste that suddenly filled his mouth.

"But just so you know," McCoy said and got up, marching over to Pike and looking right into his eyes, "it would be a shame because you mean a lot to us." McCoy kissed him. "A damn lot," he added softly and slipped his hands under Pike's shirt, brushing over his chest.

Suddenly there was Kirk at his back, kissing his neck, reaching around to stroke his nipples, and then McCoy was on his knees in front of him, opening his jeans and taking out his dick. It went from zero to hundred in McCoy's hands, and then got sucked deeply into the hot mouth.

Maybe he should say stop but, what the hell, they could make some more great memories before all of this would fall apart, Pike decided and clamped his hands around McCoy's head for more friction.

An hour later, they fetched Kirk's and McCoy's baggage from their temporary rooms in the officer's building and then went for a ride in the countryside.

*

It was much later, as they sat in the car waiting for McCoy to return from somewhere, when Kirk suddenly returned to the morning's events. "Natasha – she told me she knew my parents. Her brother was on the Kelvin."

"Yes," Pike said, eyes firmly on the front screen, hands on the steering wheel of his car.

"She told me some old Kelvin stories." Kirk's voice was leveled, not giving away any emotions. "And she told me she resigned to bring up her nephew." There was a silence, and Pike felt some answer was needed.

"A year after her brother was killed, his wife died of cancer. If she hadn't resigned, the boy would've ended up in a 'fleet orphanage."

"Do you know the kid?"

"He's five years older than you, and yeah, I know him. He's a one of the high-tech farmers out in the desert. He's married with two kids, leading a rather boring life. Nothing like yours."

He turned his head as he heard Kirk's quiet laughter. "Jim?"

"There have been times when I would have loved to have a life like everybody else. But by now I've learned the merits of an extraordinary life." Kirk grinned at him. "So, how much like a father do you feel when it comes to me?"

"Too damn much," Pike muttered. "How about you?"

"Hmmm." Kirk rubbed his chin with his forefinger. "You're the closest thing to a father figure I ever had, but I've also always been attracted to you. After that night in the dungeon, well, the father stuff only turned up in some strange fantasies. Nothing to keep me from wanting more from you, but if you've got a problem with that, I can understand."

"Understand isn't enough," Pike said. "It's fine to have McCoy as the connecting point between us, but one day that won't be enough."

"You're waiting for trouble."

"I've never seen a threesome work out for long."

Kirk shrugged. "We'll be on our next mission in two weeks. It's not as if we're trying to build a life together – heck, even Bones and I rarely think further than the next missions at the moment. This is nothing exclusive, we're free to see others and so are you."

"It's just about sex, then?" Pike stared back at the front screen.

"No – definitely not." Kirk's voice was serious, and when Pike gave him a side glance, there was no grin on the younger man's face. "You're someone special to both of us, and I'm sorry if we didn't manage to get that across adequately. We would love to spend more time with you, in any way you feel like. The sex is hot, no doubt, but it's not everything."

"You both know very little about me."

Kirk chuckled. "Don't bet on it."

"Got another girl to hack into some files for you?"

The trademark grin briefly died but then returned only more broadly. "Better - today I've got a Vulcan first officer with an A7 degree in computer science."

"I doubt Spock would do your dirty work."

"We've become a great team. Don't underestimate us."

Pike leaned back. "I won't. I read all your mission reports, so I know exactly what you're capable of."

Kirk turned in his seat, bringing his knees up next to Pike's. "I'm not a kid anymore." He cupped Pike's chin to turn his head around. Kirk's gaze was intense, his eyes darkened. "Look at me – really look at me!"

Pike stared at him, taking in a man close to thirty, features that usually appeared younger from the way Kirk behaved, but when he was still, the age showed. It showed in the dark-blonde hair that was still full but with first stray grey strands, or in the eyes that were still bright, but also flanked by many small wrinkles, carved in by years of responsibility. Once Pike made a step away from thinking of the man in his front as Jim Kirk, he wasn't all that different to many other guys he'd hung around with.

Except that Kirk was; he was still the youngest captain ever, the Starfleet prodigy Pike himself had brought in. The guy who'd managed to break into McCoy's shell - and to break into _his_ shell. A man who succeeded against the odds day in, day out, and who was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

Was Pike ready too?

"I'm not a kid anymore," Kirk repeated pointedly. "And I'm not _your_ kid." He leaned forward with his lips pursed, challenge written all over his face.

_Fuck it_, Pike thought and met the kiss halfway, opening his mouth to the immediately forthcoming tongue. Closing his left hand around Kirk's head, he pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, sweeping his own tongue between Kirk's lips. When they parted at last, Pike shifted in his seat to relieve the pressure from his tight jeans.

"I think I got your point, captain," he said nonchalantly.

Kirk smirked. "I come to serve."

There was a knock, and they turned their heads to face McCoy at Pike's side of the car.

"You finally done?" he said, his voice barely audible.

Pike lowered the side window. "I'm beginning to think that your timely disappearances are intentional, doc."

McCoy crossed his arms above the window, which offered a perfect and probably just as intentional display of his chest, covered by nothing except a thin white shirt that slipped out of the jeans to reveal a stripe of haired skin.

"'Course they are." McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm a doctor, with the same psychology degrees that you have."

"Another expert, just great." Pike pressed a button to open the rear door. "Get in."

"Anytime, sir." McCoy sat down behind him and sneaked his left hand around the seat and onto Pike's shoulder.

Without asking for alternative suggestions, Pike took the quickest way back to his apartment.

*

On the Saturday three weeks later, Natasha and Chris sat face to face on their usual breakfast table. Not completely usual, though, because he had to invite her explicitly to come over. He'd also taken special pains to provide some extras.

"Scrambled eggs and bacon, what did I do to deserve this?" Nat smirked as he put the plate in front of her.

"You're here, isn't that good enough?"

"Hmmm." She eyed him over the eggs.

"Go ahead, ask," he said.

"So, did you?"

"What?"

"Fuck Jim Kirk."

"If you really want to know – yes, I did," Chris replied and took a piece of the ham. "You should start eating, or it'll get cold."

"And, is he as good as his father?" she asked, making him look up from his plate.

"I never –" He raised a brow. "But you did?"

Natasha smirked. "George was wild in his first two years," she said. "But once he got together with Winona, he never strayed again. What a pity," she added a little dreamily.

"So is that why you're suddenly so relaxed about things?" Chris asked.

She shrugged. "I talked to a friend at length. She put me straight."

"Do I know that friend?"

"Not telling you."

"Which probably means it's all over the old circles by now. There's no place more incestuous than Starfleet." He leaned back from his empty plate and crossed his legs, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, John saw the three of you in your club. If you wanted to hide, you should've gone somewhere else." Nat put the fork aside. "Phoned me the next day and said something about hot kisses and a dance and not having seen you so infatuated since Alain. Which was like, ten years ago?"

"Remind me to put John on the club's blacklist," Chris said without real bite.

"And he's right, you know," Nat said, eyeing him intensely. "You haven't looked so relaxed for ages. They must've done something right with you. A pity they had to depart already."

"They will be back," he said with a shrug, "and I'll know when because I'm in the advisory board for mission plans."

"You could make them come back earlier."

"But I won't. Jim's got the best ship in the fleet, and we've got to put her to good use."

"Making the admiralty happy, I know." She smiled.

He looked at her, suddenly seeing her the way she looked thirty years ago, the young, dashing, brilliant cadet. They'd joked about her becoming his Number One once they'd got a starship together but then the Kelvin disaster had happened and everything had changed. He was still in Starfleet but not in that one seat he'd always wanted to be in, and she'd long been resigned to looking after Tom and growing organic food – cuddling her tomatoes, he liked to say. They were both grounded, and the thought made him annoyingly maudlin.

"Let's get away," he said resolutely and went up.

"To where?"

"Just a ride with the car," he said. He knew she wouldn't misunderstand the invitation; they'd tried sleeping together in their first year and it hadn't worked out, his last attempt at making this thing called sex work with women. She'd been the one giving voice to the epiphany that he was simply gay, and his life had been a lot easier after that.

"Why not. It's not like anyone's waiting for me." She ate the last of her scrambled eggs and pushed the plate aside. He opened the door, waiting for her to grab her bag. When she passed him, she placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm so happy for you, Chris."

"I know." He hugged her. "Come on. The coast's waiting."

She walked down the stairs in front of him, her long hair swaying with every step, and Chris grinned at the new neighbor they met in the hall, who had only seen him with pretty boys over the last two weeks and now couldn't tear his eyes away from the pretty woman at his side. He laced one arm into Nat's, deciding to make all those young studs envious today. They may be old, but they were far from being dead.


End file.
